


Intruders

by DraconicSeraphim



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Living in Newt Scamander's Suitcase, M/M, Newt is a Dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicSeraphim/pseuds/DraconicSeraphim
Summary: Based on a kink meme prompt for the animals watching Newt & Jacob.5 times they were interrupted in the bedroom and one time they had no right to complain if they were going to go at it out in the open like that.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened Jacob barely noticed. It was hard to pay too much attention to other things going on around them when he was settled comfortably at the foot of the bed, kneeling between Newt’s spread legs, trying not to grin too hard as the redhead giggled and gasped at the brush of his mustache against the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. A laugh bubbled up in Jacob’s chest as Newt squirmed harder, nearly kneeing him in the jaw. He couldn’t hold back the grin he flashed up at Newt, especially when the brief reprieve made the Brit slump back against the mattress with a sigh, long fingers reaching down to push playfully into Jacob’s curls. 

“You’re a bloody tease, did you know that?” He huffed and Jacob chuckled, leaning up to nuzzle against the other man’s hip, lips trailing down, and then abruptly he was swallowing down every inch of Newt’s cock with a kind of grace that still surprised him. Fingers clenched hard in his hair, he winced faintly and then they were gone. Newt arched up, long lines stretched over the bed, hands scrabbling for purchase on the headboard. Jacob hummed, a soft satisfied sound at the sight of him. Then returned to the task at hand, sucking firmly and revelling in the sharp cry it brought from his friend.

Well they were rather more than friends now, weren’t they? But it was still something undefinable, new and complex, so friend would suffice. He worked his mouth smoothly over Newt’s length, testing and experimenting, varying the pressure of his tongue, the amount of suction, the tiniest hint of teeth at one point. The teeth had the redhead arching off the bed and making the most deliciously wanton sound. Jacob’s eyes flickered back up his body and abruptly stilled, Newt’s cock falling from between his lips with a wet plop as it flopped back against his belly.

It was ridiculous and so very weird. Newt had reached for the headboard, yes, but what he’d gotten was a fistful of Dougal’s fur. The demiguise was contentedly visible now, one wide hind-paw cupped around Newt’s cheek, petting him almost in a way that was surely meant to be soothing. Jacob supposed he could understand how the creature might think the noises Newt was making were distress but still. Wide golden eyes flickered blue and then Dougal tilted his head and near purred what was maybe meant to be an encouragement. At the same time Newt whined desperately, the hand not in Dougal’s fur but actually around the top of the headboard fluttering down to clutch at Jacob’s hair.

“N-No, you mustn’t stop.” Gasped out and breathless and the sound rushed straight to Jacob’s own neglected erection, making him groan. 

“Yeah but uh…” He trailed off, awkwardly and Newt lifted his head to blink down at Jacob, seemingly oblivious to the silvery fur gliding over his cheek as he did so. Gold-green eyes focused briefly on him, flicked up to Dougal, then back to Jacob.

“Oh Merlin’s beard, Jacob. _Please._ ” And it was the raw need in that last word, the way Newt’s hips lifted to coax him back to his previous task that finally made Jacob nod, a little dumbfounded.

“Uh… sure, yeah, okay. Just tell ‘im to stop staring.” As Jacob’s lips wrapped around the head of Newt’s cock once more Dougal did one better. 

He vanished entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time one of the beasts barges in on them in the bedroom it really is Jacob’s fault and he can almost admit that. Later, much later, sometime when he isn’t buried inside of Newt’s deliciously tight heat with a pair of the largest eyes he’d ever seen on any animal peering up at him over the edge of the bed. 

They’d been finishing up the rounds for the evening feed and Newt had been particularly lovely and Jacob might have rushed rather a lot through the end of their tasks so that he could drag Newt into the bedroom and ravish him. If the lid for the mooncalfs’ pellets hadn’t been sealed properly and possibly, maybe, spilled off the kitchen table, rolling over the floor to nestle by the bedroom door, which had most certainly not been closed. Well really it was Newt’s fault for smiling like that, like he would make Jacob’s heart burst with joy just being near him.

Newt was face down on the mattress, one foot dragging over the floor, the other knee propped up on the edge of the bed, rocking back against Jacob with wanton moans. It wasn’t until there were soft crunching noises and ever so slightly higher pitched hums amidst Newt’s sounds that Jacob even became aware of the beast. Wide eyed and with cheeks stretched wide around far too many pellets, it peeked over the footboard at the two of them, trying to match Newt’s sounds or at least pitch.

He was so startled the curse that escaped him came out in Polish, rather than English.

Newt, who hadn’t noticed their visitor yet simply moaned again, rolling his hips back against Jacob and smiling over his shoulder. “Yeah? You’ll have to translate that for me.” Another insistent shift of his hips. “Later.” Breathless and groaning when Jacob’s grip tightened on his hips. But Jacob wasn’t guiding him to a harder pace or anything of the like. No, Jacob was trying to hold him still and Newt whined, nearly toppling Jacob backwards with the force of his next attempt to impale himself on Jacob’s cock.

“Dammit, Newt.” Jacob couldn’t force himself to pull back from the redhead but he wasn’t about to keep fucking him with this curious little mooncalf mewling at them. He tried to reach up and force Newt to turn his head but the other man was so much taller he couldn’t reach and he huffed out a breath of frustration. “Look, would you?” He grumbled, waving a hand towards the mooncalf. 

Which the little monster apparently took as an invitation. Jacob’s eyes widened almost as far as the animal itself’s and Newt burst out laughing as it shuffled over to nuzzle Jacob’s side affectionately. The poor No-Maj looked as though he were going to explode with the volume of conflict inside him. It was strange and awkward and cute and Newt was laughing, entire body shuddering and clenching around him. “Oh god…” He gasped, fingers spasming around Newt’s hips and when they shifted against each other the mooncalf stepped back, dancing an excited little half circle behind them. 

“He’s seen worse, I assure you.” Newt gasped out, falling right back into rolling his hips and drawing a disbelieving gasp from Jacob. 

“Wha-?” Jacob barely managed to get the word out but Newt was moving again and he just rolled his eyes, Glancing uncertainly behind him as the Mooncalf settled against the far wall, head tilted curiously. He’d almost finally decided to ignore the beast, gradually picking up a firm pace. 

Then he felt a cold, damp nose sniffing unsettlingly close to his balls. A distinctly unmanly sound escaped him and there was a mooncalf deposited unceremoniously on the ground outside the door, the door itself slamming closed in the poor thing’s face while Newt reached back to pull Jacob in close again.

“Now if you’re done fussing, Jacob.” Calm and pleasant and clearly amused, only to be followed up with something caught between a growl and a whine. “Fuck. Me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jacob was nervous, he suspected that was pretty normal. Then he wondered if Newt had been nervous the first time they’d done this and maybe he should’ve been a little more careful or gentle or -oh! He blinked down at the other man, lips pursing into a curious little pout as Newt withdrew his fingers from the faint redness on Jacob’s thigh.

“Did you just… pinch me?” He tilted his head and Newt glanced away, stammering and uncertain in a way he hadn’t been with Jacob in a long time now. 

“Well, that is… yes.” Newt sighed and bit his lip but continued on regardless of any uncertainty. “You were getting a bit lost in there and I rather wanted you present- here- with me for this.” Jacob actually blushed at that, giving the other man a wry smile. He nodded, trying to look apologetic and then he shifted a little, pushing himself up on his elbows so he could look down at Newt. It was harder to get lost in his own head if he could watch his lover…? He flushed another three shades darker at the thought but it felt right and the small smile that lingered perpetually on his face broadened into something full of emotion. 

Which seemed to settle Newt’s nerves and the redhead flashed that heart-stopping smile of his up at Jacob. “There, that’s better.” And with that he finally allowed one slick finger to slowly sink into Jacob’s body. He gasped sharply, teeth setting into his lower lip and he gradually slumped back against the bed. For a long moment there was just the soft sounds of their breathing, Newt’s gaze intense and evaluating as he watched for the small signs of stress to dissipate. “Much better.” Newt’s voice was soothing as he stroked his other hand over Jacob’s thigh.

It didn’t hurt, not really. Which he knew was largely due to Newt’s efforts to make him relax and the time spent teasing and opening him up little by little. Infinitely patient, as though Jacob were one of his beasts that needed to be coaxed into accepting his care. 

He didn’t need _that_ much coaxing, though, and although this was new and a little bit strange for him he wanted this. And perhaps his pride was a little bruised at just how careful Newt was being with him, slowly, oh so slowly dragging that one finger out of him, pressing back in at varied angles. “Get on with it.” He huffed softly, trying to shift up again to look down at the other man.

That little shift was apparently what Newt was looking for because his finger pressed in deeper - god he had such long, elegant fingers- and a white hot jolt of pleasure raced up Jacob’s spine. He squirmed a little, arching up in a way that was entirely unhelpful and he wasn’t sure what was more dizzying, the spike of sensation or the way Newt breathed his name like he was some rare, beautiful thing to be treasured. 

Newt moved with him, keeping pressure on that spot that made his nerves dance and his eyes lose focus, reaching with his other hand for the vial that held the amber colored oil that smelled faintly of sandalwood. It was a nice vial with a crystal stopper, much like a lady’s perfume bottle and not at all like the fragile corked glass containers that held Newt’s potion ingredients. Distinction, he’d said. Pleasure versus business and all.

Only the redhead made a small disgruntled sound, fingers reaching first to the nightstand where he was certain he’d set it, then to the coverlet, just in case he hadn’t. Finally he apologetically withdrew his other hand and Jacob groaned in dismay. Of course, then Newt was laying himself over Jacob’s body, using the other man to anchor himself to the bed as he leaned over it, russet curls brushing the floor with how far over he was and Jacob had to clutch at his waist to make sure he didn’t topple head first off the bed. 

“Is this really happening right now?” Jacob chuckled and he had to restrain himself from tickling Newt in retaliation for all of this. It had taken him days to get up the nerve to ask for this and now Newt had lost the damnable oil?

“R-really, I’m so sorry.” He murmured as he drew back up onto the bed, plastering himself to Jacob’s side, lips apologetic and soothing even though they both knew Jacob wasn’t actually mad about anything. Still he’d never deny the opportunity to just lay back and kiss Newt, marvelling at how responsive his lover was, taking the time learn his taste and every inch of his mouth.

The kiss was interrupted by a soft tinkling sound near the door, almost like breaking glass and they both turned their heads to look at the source of the sound.

“ _Menace!_ ” Newt hissed, moving suddenly enough to nearly jostle Jacob straight off the bed. Oil pooled on the floor, the smell of sandalwood and spice strong and pleasant even as the niffler stared at Newt, crystal stopper in his greedy little hands. The bottle itself wasn’t shattered but it was certainly broken and the pool of oil was spreading around the niffler’s feet.

The creature wiggled out under the door half a moment before Newt threw it open. “Oh no you don’t!”

In the end the sex was forgotten in favor of Jacob quite literally rolling on the floor, roaring with laughter, at the sight of a naked Newt chasing the niffler through every small nook and cranny of the house, attempting to catch an already tricky beast that was now slick with oil.


	4. Chapter 4

Scones had not been part of Jacob’s repertoire before finding himself rehomed into Newt’s suitcase. Sure he’d had plenty of them in the years he spent in Europe after the war helping with rebuilding efforts. (Little luxuries like baked goods were a far off dream during the war proper.) Over the past months, however, he’d come to learn that scones were perhaps the only way to get Newt to indulge in sweets. The other man insisted he didn’t much care for sweets, so much so that cookies (“Biscuits!” Newt corrected every damn time) would go uneaten if he made more than a dozen. 

Chocolate, cinnamon, frosting ( _”Icing”_ ), light and airy donuts rolled in gloriously fine sugar. All would get an obligatory complement, one eaten and then… forgotten.

But scones… Scones could be doused in jams and honey thick and sticky and messy and apparently, by Newt’s definition, were the only acceptable type of sweet to have on hand at all times. Which Jacob was perfectly content to use the excuse to tweak and perfect his recipe. The scones themselves didn’t change much (save for perhaps a touch of Grandma’s trademark orange zest) but what he topped them with varied from week to week. 

He was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of blackberries that were slowly reducing, the syrup shimmering and a little bit more bubbly than previous incarnations because of a dash of morning dew he’d swiped from Newt’s potion supplies. (Having asked numerous times before hand if what was safe to experiment with.) The effervescent effect of the morning dew had prompted him to add spearmint to the mixture as well and he was quite satisfied with the result. 

Plans to surprise Newt with a platter of them with tea at lunch time were derailed early on, though, as the redhead shuffled into the kitchen, filthy and disheveled but smiling broadly. “Not in my kitchen you don’t.” Jacob scolded immediately, before Newt had even taken two steps in the door. He blinked, startled, then looked down at himself and muttered a sheepish cleaning charm. It wasn’t perfect but he no longer looked like a moving dustball and that was sufficient for Jacob.

Slender arms snaked over his shoulders as Newt nuzzled into his hair, pressing his body up against Jacob’s back. Jacob sighed softly, leaning back into the redhead’s embrace, smiling as he lifted the spoon from the pot and held it up for Newt to taste. The sound his lover made was nothing short of indecent and Jacob groaned as Newt’s tongue darted out to chase a drop of syrup that made to drip down his chin. 

Jacob started to shift, one hand quick to kill the heat under the blueberry reduction, the other reaching for Newt’s hip. Clearly Newt had other ideas, though, the lazy sprawl of his arms around Jacob’s shoulders tightening. He didn’t quite press the shorter man up against the counter, it wouldn’t do to burn him, but he pressed close enough to make turning uncomfortable. 

Warm lips, sticky with syrup, moved softly against Jacob’s neck. Little nibbles to his earlobe progressed to firm nips and soft suction at the juncture of neck and shoulder, his shirt collar shoved down as Newt gradually worked his teeth against the forgiving flesh there. Somewhere, months ago, Jacob had been self conscious of just how much skin there was there for Newt to abuse but the Brit had told him in no uncertain terms that the give of flesh beneath his teeth was a satisfaction that Jacob offered ample opportunity for. Besides, Jacob was hardly complaining, not when Newt was making soft pleased little noises against his skin, rolling flesh between his teeth until Jacob hissed in a breath and blew it out as a groan. Finally he surrendered to that insistent mark Newt was branding onto him, leaning back heavily, head lolling to the side, trusting Newt to keep him upright.

At least until there was a sharp, pinprick of pain against his shoulder blade, a loud squeak, and Newt released his throat with a gasp. Jacob had to take a moment to steady himself, gripping the edge of the counter, breathing heavily, dark eyes blown wide with arousal. Confusion was only a fleeting thought when he glanced over his shoulder to see Newt scowling down at his pocket.

“Pickett, really.” Newt was exasperated, that much was clear and it made Jacob more than a little proud to know something as simple as his cooking and a few kisses to his throat were enough to get Newt flustered enough to be impatient with Pickett of all his creatures. He reached up and trailed his fingers over his own neck, humming softly at the heat that radiated from the slightly raised welt Newt had left. 

He didn’t mean to make things worse but when he refocused his gaze Newt was staring at him, looking every bit as feral and predatory as some of his beasts. Jacob flashed him a mischievous grin and then, suddenly Newt was on him again, shoving him up against a clear space of counter, kissing him hard enough to make him dizzy. Jacob’s fingers clutched at Newt’s shirt, ignoring the high pitched protests and the twiggy little fingers prying at Jacob’s as though Pickett could force him to relinquish his hold. Honestly, if he let go of Newt just now he might collapse, might drift away, unmoored by the passion of his lover. 

Newt finally released him, practically jumping backwards, sighing heavily. “Are you honestly going to be this over-protective?” Jacob was left reeling, gripping the counter to steady himself, while Newt continued to try to convince his resident bowtruckle that kissing Jacob was not, in fact, going to endanger him. And no, really Newt was a human, a wizard, and most certainly not his home tree. 

“Would it be rude to say maybe he should stay out here and we can head for the bedroom?” Jacob finally offered, still breathless and flushed and getting a little impatient himself. 

“Excellent idea.” Newt agreed readily, immediately starting to unbutton his shirt, intending to leave all of Pickett’s hiding places in the kitchen. The bowtruckle continued his tirade, alternating between worried chirps at Newt and scandalized disapproval at Jacob. Then there was finally silence as Newt discarded his shirt entirely, leaving it on the kitchen table as he ushered Jacob into the bedroom.

Jacob had absolutely no arguments. At least until they finally got into the bedroom, Newt’s lips on his once more, his fingers threading into soft red curls… only to be greeted with sharp little bowtruckle teeth over one of his knuckles.


	5. Chapter 5

It was impossible to have lived through the war and not have some bad dreams from time to time, even if Jacob sometimes suspected that Newt’s dreams weren’t entirely related to the war. They dealt with their nightmares in very different ways. Jacob would sneak out of bed, warm himself some milk and indulge in a few ginger snaps, the one treat he kept on hand at all times for this very purpose. Often with a thick flannel blanket around his shoulders. Warm and cozy, eating something that could only be considered an indulgence, the kind of goodies his grandmother used to give him. It was as far away from the cold, dark misery of the trenches as he could get.

It helped, reminded him of where he wasn’t. Not anymore. Usually after an hour or so he could return to bed and trust his mind to allow sleep.

For Newt it was touch. The first time the nightmares had come after they’d begun sharing a bed Jacob had woken bleary-eyed and confused in the wee hours of the morning. When he’d finally found Newt the other man was perched on a rock in the mooncalves’ enclosure, no less than half a dozen of the beasts curled up against him, heads perched on lap and shoulder, warmth and weight soothing him but not enough that he’d been able to sleep. The gentle warmth of their small bodies was reassuring but, after weeks of trial and error, the two of them found that sleep only came after the redhead exhausted himself with a more visceral kind of touch.

Which is what found them here this particular night, Jacob’s arms tight around the slight man beside him, slowly sinking into the heat of his body. Newt groaned, the sound only just this side of pain. That’s precisely what he wanted, what he needed to ground himself in the present, here and now with Jacob. Strong sensation but there was no rushing to it. Jacob pulled him close, nuzzled the back of his neck and smiled against his skin. 

Newt sighed, contentedly pressing back against Jacob, stretching his long limbs out, slowly shaking off the dream in exchange for the warm press of bodies. Elegant fingers curled tighter around his wand and the fireplace on the wall opposite the bed flickered slowly to life. They don’t need it but if the light would ease some of the redhead’s tension then far be it for Jacob to question it. He suspects, as he usually does, that it’s less about the light and more about the easy call of magic to his lover’s whims.

Jacob had never dared to ask. It seemed too private, somehow. Strange that he could share his bed, hold the man in his arms, savor the warmth of his body, but asking Newt about the magic, the importance of his wand, was beyond him. Perhaps it was because he suspected the other man had at one time found himself defenseless. It wasn’t something Jacob could understand fully. Not really. Spending 2 days trapped in the rubble of an old church, long since out of ammo and unsure if it would be friend or foe that eventually brought him back into the light of day… it wasn’t the same. A gun was a reassurance, certainly, but it wasn’t a part of him. It wasn’t an intrinsic part of who he was. Even the, albeit limited, knowledge he had of boxing and how to use his own body for defense could not touch the scope of devastation that losing his wand would mean to Newt.

So he didn’t ask, merely held the taller man close, rocked slowly into his body, offered what reassurance he could with his presence. He murmured meaningless words into the skin of Newt’s shoulder, the words themselves lost but it was the tone that mattered, soft and warm and pleased. Jacob wasn’t sure what exactly he’d said, still only half awake and luxuriating in the feel of the other man beside him, against him, around him. But Newt huffed a breathless laugh and reached an arm behind him to curl into Jacob’s hair, pushing himself more firmly into his arms. 

Jacob chuckled in response, the arm trapped beneath Newt crossing over his chest to hold him firmly and the other hand trailing in light, near tickling, lines over his side, his hip. Newt gasped sharply, arching into Jacob, both hands coming to grasp the arm across his chest, trying to squirm away from the tickle but closer to the man doing it. Hearing the soft laugh, the breathless sounds of happiness chasing away the strained terror that he’d woken with not half an hour ago, made the vice around Jacob’s heart let go finally. He knew damn well Newt wasn’t fragile or anything of the like but there was still a part of him that worried. Every dream, every nightmare, every thought of a past neither of them could escape was like a cold dose of reality in a life that seemed too wondrous to be real.

Another soft murmur of reassurance against Newt’s neck, the teasing fingers on his side stilling, and Jacob could feel relief make his throat dry, thick with words he didn’t dare say. Instead he nipped softly at the other man’s throat, dark eyes half lidded as he soothed the mark with his tongue. The last thing he expected was to meet bright amber eyes over Newt’s shoulder.

The redhead had noticed her before Jacob, one hand slipping away from the other man’s arm, fingers stretching out to coax her onto the bed. She shimmered and glinted in the firelight, the warm light drawing violet highlights from the blue and teal feathers of her body, casting golden eyes a shade darker and making the occamy’s beak shimmer like brass. “Marta, what are you doing here?” Newt murmured softly as she wound her way around his arm and Jacob huffed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“How do you tell them apart?” He finally asked, gaze still focused on the creature as Newt returned his arm to where it had been. Jacob squeezed as Newt pressed back harder, distracted briefly from the haze of warmth and safety that Jacob provided. Marta stared at him, head tilting quizzically before she slithered up Newt’s arm, half onto Jacob’s, finally resting her beak on the back of Jacob’s wrist where his hand curved over Newt’s ribs. It put her all of, perhaps, eight inches from Jacob’s face, peering over the swell of Newt’s shoulder down at her. She was his, theirs. She was the reason all of this glorious madness had become his life. She was what had brought them together and somehow under the weight of her gaze all of this seemed so much more fragile.

“She’s a bit greener in the face…” Newt murmured softly, gasping in a breath when Jacob held him that much tighter. “And there’s that pale spot on the left of her beak.” The words were slow and almost cautious, uncertain of what was going through the other man’s mind. “Jacob?” Because Jacob’s breathing was coming harder than was really warranted by the slow, comforting press of their bodies.

Jacob took a deep breath, lips brushing over the light dusting of freckles on Newt’s shoulder and he thought for a moment that he would remember the pattern of the man’s skin until his last breath. He didn’t look away, still holding Marta’s gaze, his chest burning with the words he’d never thought he’d let himself say.

“I love you.” 

And Marta closed those golden eyes, content to sleep coiled around her people.


	6. Chapter 6

He still wasn’t entirely sure how they’d ended up like this. It was entirely Newt’s fault, that much was certain. But then it usually _was_ Newt’s fault wasn’t it? The thought made him laugh, the sound almost immediately choked off into a gasp. His fingers curled tightly into damp copper strands as Newt hummed mischievously around Jacob’s cock. The ability to convey mischief so clearly when his mouth was firmly occupied was just yet another magical ability that Newt had, green-gold eyes glittering in a way that would have made the no-maj nervous if he’d had the presence of mind to think that clearly. 

Jacob let his fingers skitter from Newt’s hair, down along his jaw, smoothing over bare shoulders. The first time he’d found Newt like this, working so hard under the hot magically induced sunshine, bare chested and unconcerned with the potential results of the sun, Jacob had worried for the other man’s health. As it turned out, magical replicas of sunlight were not close enough to leave the poor Brit burnt to a crisp and Jacob strongly suspected that was part of why Newt preferred the interior of his suitcase to many of the locations they’d been to. 

But to find him laughing playfully, using his wand to flick sprays of warm water across the enclosure, dancing around the erumpent as she huffed and shuffled, trying to keep up with him. It had surprised Jacob so much that he’d burst out laughing, himself. Then suddenly the three of them were chasing each other through the enclosure, Newt cheating horribly because Jacob had to dart in towards the small water hole to splash the redhead while his lover could simply flick water from seemingly nowhere at him.

They’d stumbled into one another at some point, breathless and panting, sweaty and damp in equal turns. Newt was shirtless and practically glowing with joy, Jacob’s once white button down was splattered with mud, sticking to his chest in places where it was exceptionally wet. Somehow or another Jacob had ended up pressed back against a boulder, Newt sliding gracefully to his knees as the erumpent trotted in slowing circles around her enclosure. 

Which of course left Jacob torn between leaning back and enjoying the other man’s attentions or becoming increasingly worried about just how focused the erumpent was on their activities. They were, quite literally, dead center in her enclosure, after all. She moved closer, pawing at the dirt beside the water hole across from them. They’d all been playing and now the silly humans were distracted with each other. Clearly if she reminded them about how they were meant to be playing with her they’d stop this… whatever they were doing.

Jacob’s gaze flicked from her back to Newt, groaning and letting his eyes flutter closed as the redhead made a show of sucking firmly on him, cheeks hollowing as he took more and more of Jacob’s length into his mouth, swallowing carefully around him. There’d been a protest, a question or concern somewhere in the back of his mind. Like hell if he could remember what it was now, though. His hips jerked forward of their own accord and Newt followed the motion smoothly, practiced now after so many months learning Jacob’s body. 

Dark eyes opened again and he nearly jumped out of his skin at how close the erumpent was, her head tilted and a soft hum of curiosity escaping her. Newt’s hands came up to grip Jacob’s thighs tightly, effectively pinning him against the rock. “She likes your smell.” He drew back just enough to murmur the words before he swallowed again, taking Jacob fully into his mouth.

“‘Course she does.” Jacob rolled his eyes a little but his exasperation was lost as he rocked back up into Newt’s pliant mouth once more. “Shit, Newt…” It was an encouragement and a warning all at once and Jacob let his head fall back, groaning long and low, his fingers tight and demanding in Newt’s hair now. His noises clearly meant they were going to play again, by the erumpent’s interpretation and she danced away, circling the water hole once more and tossing her head. 

It was all so abrupt and overwhelming that it took Jacob a moment to register what exactly had happened. Newt drew back, laughing long and loud and bright, his face gleaming and damp as Jacob surrendered, panting and gasping as he came, most of his release finding it’s way onto Newt’s face. At the same time water was cascading down on them, a fine spray of mist and, fogged with pleasure as his mind was, it took Jacob a solid minute before he realized the erumpent had drawn in a full breath of water, spraying it back out at them in a fine mist that had Jacob laughing too.

“This is entirely your fault.” He scolded playfully, raising an arm to wipe the water out of his face. Then he was stripping off his shirt and dropping it into Newt’s lap, letting the other man clean up with the shirt.

“Guilty.” Newt replied without the slightest hesitance, just that brilliant unrestrained joy. “Happily so.”


End file.
